Beautiful Liar
by gothiktenkasen
Summary: She began to find that his too blue eyes hurt her more than his hands ever could. JacksonOC
1. Queuing

Disclaimer: Yeah, I wish.

Rating: M for Mature

Content: Violence, language and sexual situations.

Summary: She began to find that his too blue eyes hurt her more than his hands ever could. JacksonOC

---

Beautiful Liar

---

Chapter 1: Queuing

---

"Trust me, Marie, you really need this cruise," She leaned back in her chair, running a hand through her red hair.

"I don't know, Jared, I have a lot of patients next week," Her brown eyes fell to her appointment book. Next week was conveniently empty. _What a fat lie_. She could hear him snort on the other end.

"Like it's really that hard for you to clear it up," Marie shrugged, despite the fact that he couldn't see her. "Besides, you need to get out of Seattle, if only for a week," She sighed, almost relenting.

"And why can't you go again?"

"Because," his voice was comically exasperated, "Ricky doesn't like boats,"

"Ships," she corrected him absently. "Cruises happen on ships," She heard him scoff in an almost effeminate manner,

"Same thing, just bigger. Anyways, he doesn't like them, so I can't go, but I already paid and made reservations. It'll be easy to change them under your name. And," Marie could almost taste his hesitation, "it'll be a good place for you to meet people," She paused, twirling a lock of hair around her finger and rubbing the strands against the pad of her thumb. His allusion to her singleness didn't go unnoticed. It had been, what, five months since she found out why Charlie couldn't spend weekends at her apartment? Marie chewed her lower lip. She should be over him by now, really. With an intake of breath, she said,

"How much would I have to pay you?"

"Aw, thanks, baby!" he cried, completely ignoring her question. "Don't worry about the money; think of it as a birthday present for all the years I've missed!" Marie furrowed her brow.

"But you always buy me a birthday present,"

"No, Ricky does. He just puts my name next to his," She chuckled; it was classically Jared.

"Are you sure? Because-"

"Na-ah, no way, honey. I don't care how much your loonies pay you, my loonies pay me more," Marie laughed again, if only because the 'loonies' that Jared referred to were the fashion victims he helped recover.

"Alright then, what about Boots?"

"Your cat? Don't worry about him, Ricky and I have it covered,"

---

She stared into the mirror as she sat at her bureau. Her fingers ran through her hair, more red than the typical orange or blonde, and then traced the circles under her brown eyes that she had so lovingly concealed with make-up. _Does she look like this now?_ Marie wondered._ Or is her hair longer than mine? Shorter?_ It had been three years since her disappearance, but it was to be expected. Marie brushed the feelings and thoughts aside. _It's not like I'm ever going to see her again…_

Breaking away from her gloomy thoughts, Marie stood and slipped on the jacket lying on her bed. She tugged on her low heels before pulling her suitcase out of the bedroom and shutting off the lights. Her Calico cat flopped down in front of her feet. He stared up at her, rolling onto his back as if to pitifully say, _"Why are you leaving me?"_

"I'll be back in a week. Ricky and Jared will be over, dropping off the mail and feeding you, so behave," Marie chastised him. _Great_, her inner voice was bitter. _I've been reduced to talking to my cat._ She locked her apartment, wheeling her luggage down to the elevator and pushing the button that lowered her down to the garage. It was a nice apartment, a little expensive, but she liked it for the quiet neighborhood. She threw her bags into the backseat of her car and slid into the driver's seat. As she exited the garage, she noticed that the silver BMW 5 series was gone. The car had been parked outside of the opposite apartment complex for a while and she had never seen it move. Marie shrugged it off and made her way to Seattle Pier 30.

The drive was uneventful and she bypassed the Starbucks drive-throughs with a determined, yet passive-aggressive animosity. If there was one thing that irked Marie Jeanette Keller, it was the overrated coffee franchise that was the Devil's spawn. Her loathing for Starbucks was a little juvenile, she would admit as an avid tea drinker, yet she had witnessed many of her favorite, small coffee and tea shops go out of business in downtown Seattle. With the disappearance of her beloved shops came the subservient hatred of the consumer. She found solace in her displeasure with every sip of steaming tea.

Marie made her way down the piers to the gated parking lot. She relinquished the twenty-five dollar fee, a price she couldn't argue with as she was going on this cruise for free. She walked down the pavement, luggage in tow until a bored middle-aged, balding man in a vest depicting the cruise's logo directed her to her appropriate line. Waiting in the queue, she slipped her Blackberry Curve out of her pocket and pressed two. Marie held the phone up to her ear, shifting slightly forward to follow the minimal budge in the line. After several rings, the phone picked up.

"Hello?" She smiled at the rough greeting.

"Hi, Dad,"

"Oh, Marie," His voice brightened considerably. "Honey, Marie's on the phone!" she heard him call. His volume lowered to speak to her again. "How are you doing? Are you on the ship yet?"

"I'm doing fine. Just standing in line to board. How are things at home?"

"Oh, things are fine; your mother keeps ordering tea online. I personally think it's a bit ridiculous," Marie chuckled lightly. After she had introduced her adopted mother to Peet's Coffee and Tea, the woman couldn't go back to the Safeway purchased tea in little cardboard boxes.

"How's everything going at the university?" she heard him huff as she peered around the man in front of her

"They want me to be head of the department," Marie's eyebrows lifted in brief surprise,

"But, Dad, that's great!"

"I have enough trouble with my own students," He grumbled good-naturedly, "I don't want to babysit the rest of the History department,"

"Henry!" She could hear Anna's distant voice on the other line. "Henry, let me talk to Marie!" From behind her, a woman picked up her own phone.

"Where are you?" was her greeting. A pause, then, "What do you mean where am I? I'm at Pier 30!" Marie threw a quick glance over her shoulder. She was bleach blonde with carefully concealed, minor wrinkles. Marie guessed she was in her mid thirties. The young man in back of her made eye contact with Marie. He surreptitiously tilted his head at the blonde and cocked an eyebrow with a quick grin. She turned away, hoping he hadn't seen her small smile.

"Marie, sweetie? Mom wants to talk to you,"

"Okay Dad," She wheeled her luggage as the line lurched forward. She heard the beach blonde say,

"Pier 28? You said Pier 30 last night!" And then in a more polite voice, she asked, "I'm sorry, is this the twenty day cruise to Mexico?"

"Ah, I'm afraid not. We're actually going up north to Alaska,"

"Hi, honey!" her mother's cheerful voice broke into the speaker. Marie wondered what took so long. "How's everything at work? Are any of your patients feeling better?" Anna had switched to French. Appropriately switching to the same language, Marie replied,

"Some, but there are others I still need to work with. Mom, really, you know my French is good,"

"How is your German holding up?" Anna's merry voice indicated how amusing she thought their language game was.

"I thought we stopped doing this when I graduated college," But Marie smiled fondly. Being the daughter of an evolutionary linguistics professor who spoke twelve languages fluently had its perks.

"Alright, alright. Just making sure you haven't forgotten everything I've taught you," Anna had resumed their conversation in English. "I'll let you go; I know that standing in line can be awfully boring dear, but it _is _rather rude to be on the phone in a queue,"

"Okay. I'll call you when I get to Ketchikan. Tell Dad I say bye,"

"Okay, buh-bye," And Marie clicked off the phone. She cast another furtive glance over her shoulder to see the beach blonde gone, making her way back to the entrance. The man now stood behind _her_ and she found her eyes level with his collarbone. The first two buttons of his collared shirt were undone and she could see a small, round scar peeking out from behind the pale fabric.

"Hi," She quickly averted her eyes, just realizing that he had been staring. He smiled and she suspected it was genuine, but simply threw up a polite smile in return.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Don't worry about it. Happens all the time," From the slight rasp in his voice and the placement of the scar, she guessed that he had recently experienced a tracheotomy. Marie nodded and ambled forward in line. Her second bag slid from it's resting point on top of her suitcase. _Damn it._ She reached down but the man had already picked up her fallen luggage, "I got it,"

"Oh, um, thanks," She accepted his assistance and tucked a lock of red hair behind her ear. Marie could feel him studying her and so she looked him in the face. His eyes bled all sorts of thoughts, nothing below a superior intelligence or above wicked, carnal promises. He was flirting with her physically, as far as she could tell, and although she was a little flattered, she was still wary of strange men with breath taking, mesmerizing, almost painfully beautiful eyes. _Shut up_. She told herself lightly as she refocused her attention to moving ahead.

"So, is this your first cruise?" Great. Now he was trying to converse with her. She pursed her lips before turning back and offering a polite, albeit fake smile.

"Yeah, my friend guilt tripped me into going," It wasn't far from the truth but Marie didn't feel the need to let him know anything personal.

"Ah. I'm actually here by choice; vacation," He supplied. She nodded again and angled her body to face the front of the line. They were closer and Marie could see that people split off to walk to individual booths. Her escape made itself clear. She felt her pant's pocket vibrate and Marie pulled out her Blackberry. Jared's face beamed up at her next to his phone number. Licking her lips, she feigned importance,

"This is Dr. Keller speaking,"

"MJ?" Jared's voice was quizzical and rightfully so. "You have my number, honey. Is it blocked again? RICKY! DID YOU BLOCK OUR NUMBER AGAIN?" She winced,

"I see. Well, I'm not available until next week. I'm taking a vacation,"

"What? Marie, I know that. I _sent_ you on the vacation," She swallowed, hoping that Jared would remember the code from their college days.

"I was hoping we could reschedule and meet at the _Blue Peacock_," Which translated into, _I've been preoccupied by a guy. Help me._ Jared let out a gasp.

"RICKY! RICKY!" Marie deftly moved her thumb to lower the volume, lest the surrounding people could hear her friend. "Ricky she's already talking to a guy and _she_ _isn't even on the ship yet!_"

"Excellent. I'll see you then," And she abruptly hung up the phone. _I'll get him for that later_. But her thought was affectionate and not as ill-willed as she intended. Marie didn't dare to turn back to the man behind her.

She didn't glance at him when she was at her booth, displaying her passport and boarding pass. Nor did she look at him when she wheeled up the ramp and smiled at the security that helped her with her bags and handed her the room key. Marie felt his eyes boring into the spot between her shoulder blades and refused to look back.

---

And yes: Jared is gay. Very gay. And his partner Ricky is actually manlier than he is. And to clarify, since I know I might get flack for Jared's portrayal, I have nothing against gay people. One of my best friends is gay.

That aside, I'll give a cameo to whoever caught the references I made.

Reviews are Love.


	2. Double Sided Coin

Disclaimer: Yeah, I wish.

---

Beautiful Liar

---

Chapter 2: Double Sided Coin

---

Her room was nice, to say the least. Jared had spared no expense in planning his romantic week with Ricky. It was a mini-suite, the second most expensive accommodation on the ship. The walls were a warm, parchment white with framed images of Degas copies. It was a soothing room, with the appearance of being very soft. The upholstery was a light golden bronze, accented with thick vertical lines of a darker shade. The coffee table in the middle catered to several books of poetry and Shakespeare. She smiled. Jared must have told them. Glancing to the side, she noted the balcony. There was a door between the faux sitting room and her bed and bathroom. She opened the door to the adjacent room. A large white bed, accented with sage colored pillows and trim, greeted her.

Arranging her clothes in the drawers and hanging her dresses up in the closet, Marie tucked the suitcase below the bed before stowing her toiletries in the bathroom. Tucking her room key into her pocket and looking around the room one last time, she closed the door. Marie ambled down the hallway to the elevator. She pressed the button with an arrow pointing up and waited as the elevator rose from the lowest deck up to her floor.

"Oh, well, hello again," Marie turned her head slightly and masked her surprise and dread at the sight of the man from the line. She scolded herself for being mean; he was charming, but she didn't feel the need to latch onto him like she knew other women would. He towered over her, his suit a deep navy color that only made his eyes more shocking. Marie inhaled to calm herself, but instead caught his scent. Light cologne, soap and something else, something dark that she couldn't put her finger on. She ignored it.

"Hi,"

"Are you on this floor?" _He's still talking to me? _ She wondered briefly. _Well, its not like you're hideously ugly. He'll probably leave when he finds some bikini-wearing sex kitten._

"Uh, yeah. Are you?" He nodded, falling into a comfortable quiet. She surprised herself with her thoughts. _No. No, he doesn't seem the type… He's probably into the cute girl next door for long term. Then he wouldn't have to work so hard to keep her._ She almost chuckled at the thought. Marie caught his eyes on her face from out of the corner of her vision.

"Yes?" She allowed herself a flirtatious smile. One. Just to be nice.

"I trust you're going up to see the disembarkation?" Marie nodded and the elevator doors opened with a ping. They stepped inside, and he reached past her to tap the correct button. In the back of her mind, she noted how his arm barely brushed by her chest.

"Uh huh,"

"Do you think I can catch you at the bar after?" His smile was brilliant and inviting. _Wow, that was quick_.

"Oh, um, I uh-" She fumbled with her words and he caught himself, looking a little sheepish.

"I'm sorry. That was pretty forward of me. I just assumed that, since we're on the same cruise and you're alone and I'm alone, I just- yeah. Sorry," Something in her subconscious panicked when he mentioned her being alone, sending off red flags and bells and whistles. _I never said that_.

"I- no. I didn't- I'm sorry, for making you apologize like that," She was babbling now. _But then again, it's a pretty easy assumption_. The elevator doors reopened to the deck and they stepped out. Marie's mind was clicking away, weighing out the pros and cons of conversing with him. _He'll probably forget about me in a couple hours._ She reasoned. _One drink won't kill me_. There was an absurd beeping noise and he rolled his eyes, reaching into his inner breast pocket.

"You know, sometimes I question the intelligence of my office and if they understand what a 'vacation' means," She smiled. He looked at her apologetically. "I'm sorry I have to take this," She nodded and took the initiative.

"I'll save you a seat at the bar," Sauntering away, she couldn't help but grin with the knowledge that he was looking after her.

---

"Let me guess…" His crystalline eyes studied her with a bizarre, casual intensity and she resisted looking away. "Cosmopolitan? No, too sorority," They sat at the bar, as she had promised. "Mmmm, an old-fashioned cocktail?" A mixture of embarrassment and amusement tugged at her lips, "Nah, too bitter, right? No, you look like you'd like something a little sweeter but not too sweet," Part of her refused to admit how sexual he sounded, when merely discussing a _drink_. "Ah, Singapore Sling maybe?" Marie allowed herself the look of surprise. The man looked smug, "I'm right, aren't I," It was a statement, not a question.

_Slightly egotistical…. Possibly from continuous praise as an only child? According to Alder, that would create some intrapersonal difficulties for him when he discovers he's not universa- _She mentally caught herself before continuing her evaluation. Marie chastised herself internally as she offered him a polite smile. He turned to the bartender,

"A Singapore Sling for the lady please," He flashed her a charming smile. _Such confidence; he's young, _she thought.

"And I suppose you do this for all the girls you meet?" His eyes widened a mere fraction, unnoticeable had she not looked for it. She remained relaxed, a cool, almost professional smile on her lips. _Just keep acting the polite bitch. If he's smart, he'll pick up on his cue to leave._

"Well, it's nice for breaking the ice," Marie gave way to small, hindered chuckle. He tilted his head, "A real smile now? I guess all I have to do is continuously make an ass of myself," Marie shook her head and thanked the bartender as he placed her drink on a coaster.

"There's no need for that,"

"That's good to hear," He observed her once more over the rim of his glass. She averted her eyes, sipping the Sling and noting that it tasted a little strong. Her tongue ran over the inner edge of her lower lip, a nervous habit she had sworn to get rid of years ago. "I'm Jackson, by the way. Jackson Rippner,"

"Marie," She replied, almost hesitant, "Dr. Marie Keller,"

"Keller, that's Irish isn't it?"

"Yes, um, I'm actually adopted," He nodded in an understanding sort of way. She doubted that he did.

"And your birth mother?" Marie looked up at him, caught off guard. He sensed her insecurity and easily brushed aside his question, apologizing. "I'm sorry, that was a rather personal question of me to-" She brushed aside his apology just as easily.

"No, no. It's fine. I never met her. She died when I was born," _Come on, get the hint._ But her thoughts were less persistent than before.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Jackson's tone was sympathetic and she was unsure if his sincerity was real or fake. Marie gave him the benefit of the doubt and instead, changed topics.

"You look like a business man," She tasted her drink again, "Or maybe you just like dressing up in your father's suits," He placed a hand over his heart.

"You wound me," But his voice was warm, his tone good-natured.

"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy," Marie bantered.

"I get plenty of play," His smile bordered a wicked smirk; an open flirtation. She smiled lightly.

"But all play and no work makes Jack a mere toy,"

"Marie Edgeworth," He quipped. "Quaint," But he didn't speak condescendingly, so she wasn't offended. "Still, all work and no play makes a lot of jack,"

"Cynical," she teased, "I suppose that's how you got here," He nodded.

"My job has some nice benefits," Marie sipped her drink. He was enchanting, really. Rippner held an unconventional beauty; he had a strong jaw that tapered into a rounded chin. His eyes, the first thing she had noticed, were alluring and his lips seemed almost out of place. They looked soft, contrasting with the barely-there five o'clock shadow. Jackson Rippner was certainly not a burden to look at.

She was pretty, he decided. A bit unusual, but pretty. He wouldn't call her beautiful; that would make her unattainable. No, Marie was a pretty young woman. Her cool-bitch attitude was recognizable but Jackson easily let it go. No woman lasted very long under his charms. He wondered how long it would be before he revealed himself to her.

He had followed her for eight weeks, the standard time given to watch the target. Jackson had been more thorough this time, paying more heed to his mistake of underestimating the last target. _Leese_. He thought bitterly, but dismissed her from his mind. No, there would be no mistakes this time.

Marie was as quiet as Lisa had been, but not as much of a people pleaser. She worked as a psychiatrist in a private office. He noticed that the courts referred quite a few of Seattle's criminals to her. Jackson knew she kept a taser in her top left desk drawer and a can of pepper spray on her keychain. She was wary of strangers and Jackson knew that he was better off seducing her first. He had to pull a few strings to arrange for a ticket to the cruise. He was surprised when she accepted her friend's offer. Of course, he had all of her lines tapped.

It wasn't hard, following Marie. She hardly went anywhere. Even her grocery trips typically took place in the middle of the night. He knew she suffered from light insomnia and took no medications for it. Jackson had sat, day in and day out, in his silver BMW five series, watching her. His client was adamant and he had no choice but to please the customer.

"Is it safe to say that I'll see you for dinner?" He asked. She looked surprised and he thought with a smug intensity that she would not be the first to fall for his wiles. She played with her drink and he found himself fixated on her hands. Her pale fingers played with the condensation on the glass and he remembered that she painted in the late hours of the night.

"Um," Her brown eyes glanced to the left. _Shit_. He leaned back, giving her space and the words tumbled out of his mouth,

"I'm sorry," She looked at him, puzzlement in her face. Jackson stood. "I'm doing it again, the whole being forward thing," He waved his hand, as if to make her magically forget his supposed stupidity.

"Oh, um, don't worry about it. Sure. I'll see you for dinner," His smile was dazzling.

"Great. Which dining do you have?" He had his room card in hand to show her. Jackson caught himself staring at her lips as she pulled out her own card and said,

"I have the eight o'clock seating," Marie slid out of her stool and smoothed out a few wrinkles in her pants before pocketing her card. He noted that she was in room 631, across the hall and a few doors down from his own.

"So, I'll see you there?" She seemed to hesitate but he knew his confidence would sway her.

"Sure," He nodded and watched her walk away to explore the ship.

---

She found herself to be a little nervous. Marie chastised herself; it wasn't like having dinner with Jackson was a legitimate _date_ or anything. She applied a nude lipstick before gently blotting her lips. In a few days, he would be off frolicking with another young woman and she would remain forgotten. Marie inhaled deeply and leaned forward to inspect the make-up on her face. It was a warmer, natural look; nothing to entice him or make him think she was interested in anything more than dinner and a polite acquaintance.

Her dress was simply; a form fitting, knee length, black satin little thing she picked up while cruising New York with Jared and Ricky. With a squarer neckline, it modestly covered her breasts, betraying some sensuality with a line of small, satin covered buttons that trailed from the center of the neckline to the empire waist seam. She was content with the dress and allowed herself some strappy heels. Marie's fingers skimmed through her small, jewelry travel case and rested on the string of pearls Charlie had gotten her for Christmas. She clasped them around her neck without hesitation and removed her simple silver studs, replacing them with her mother's pearls.

Marie stashed her keycard, some tissues and her lipstick in a small black clutch and left her room. As she walked to the elevator, her mind drifted slightly.

Jackson was better looking than Charlie was; at least, she thought so. Charlie had been a typical, all American guy with blue eyes, blond hair and little dimples whenever he smiled. She was beginning to forget what exactly it was that had her attracted to him. Sure, he was hardworking, intelligent, charming, all the staples of the Perfect Man but there was an almost plastic like quality to him. He seemed very much like a Ken doll when she looked back on him and it didn't take her long to figure out that she wasn't Barbie.

She pressed the button to the sixth floor and banished the memories of her ex-boyfriend. _Tomorrow will be a day at sea_. She thought idly. _And then we'll dock in Ketchikan. I'll have to call Mom and Dad so they won't piss their pants worrying._ The elevator pinged and she stepped out to the warm lights and chatter of people waiting to enter the dining room. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and glanced around. Women fluttered about like elegant swans, preening and cooing while some single men strutted about like peacocks. She stopped herself from rolling her eyes.

He spotted her the moment she stepped out of the elevator. She wore her hair down and her little black dress was modest. He raised an eyebrow as he took a few seconds to watch her. Marie stood out in the crowd. While other women wore eight layers of make-up and gaudy jewelry, Marie had opted for a simpler look, something Jackson allowed himself to appreciate. _Classy_. He thought with a smirk. He raised an arm and she saw him, tentatively waving back. They met each other half way.

"Hi," She crossed one arm over her stomach to hold her elbow; a sign of nerves. He grinned.

"What's up?" They stood in line together and Jackson ignored the looks he was getting from other women. Marie was attracting looks herself and Jackson was not above sending those men a cold, hard stare.

"Not much," She replied easily. There was a small pause, "I didn't think the line would be so long at eight," Marie continued conversationally. He nodded, keeping up with the pretense of small talk,

"What with the Alaskan cruise being the favorite amongst the senior citizens," He drawled and she rolled her eyes,

"Yes, I'm in my eighties now," Jackson smirked at the hint of her sarcasm. _She's getting more comfortable_.

"Well you look good for eighty, grandma," He slipped in slyly, eyeing her. She fought a blush and settled for a draw, allowing the pink to stain her cheeks. Jackson decided that he enjoyed how it looked. Their maître d' led them to a table for two in the back on the port side, right by a large window. Jackson pulled her chair out and she glanced at him, curious. Cautiously, she allowed him to help her. The maître d' unfolded the napkin with flourish and placed it in her lap, but she focused her eyes on Jackson. His smooth lips pulled into a playful smile that barely reached his glacier eyes. _Freezing. _She thought with a subconscious shiver,

"Are you cold?" She debated if his concern was genuine,

"I'm fine," Marie replied dismissively, opening her menu. Jackson followed suit, yet his gaze remained fixated on her features. There was a tiny freckle on her left cheek, slightly below the outer corner of her eye. He briefly wondered why he hadn't noticed it before.

"Wine, miss? Sir?" A waiter asked, pausing at their table. They both glanced up at him before looking at each other,

"I'll have whatever you're having," Marie offered compliantly. He smiled again, eyes on her,

"We'll have a bottle of your Ronane Conci," Her eyebrows rose with the waiter's,

"Of course, sir," and he waltzed away,

"Isn't that… expensive?" She asked nervously, censoring the colorful expletives she would have used to further her point,

"It's French. We're on vacation. My company's paying for it, who cares?" Jackson flashed her another beautiful smile,

"Well, _I _care, but it's your company's money… I just hope you don't get in trouble for it," She didn't manage to catch herself and spent a few moments heavily chastising herself. Marie hid behind her menu again. Jackson chuckled and she couldn't deny the feeling that he was laughing at her. The waiter came back with the bottle. He uncorked and poured them each a glass ceremoniously, much to Jackson's chagrin.

"Show off," He muttered after the waiter took their dinner order and left. She chuckled,

"Jealous?" The wine was loosening her tight self-restraints, something that Jackson duly noted,

"Of course," He scoffed, "I'm not about to be shown up by some _crew member_ in front of a pretty woman," Marie rolled her eyes,

"Please,"

"Afraid to be seduced, Dr. Keller?" Jackson teased, observing her with a predatory gleam over the rim of his wine glass. She fought down a light flush.

"Afraid to be rejected?" She quipped. He laughed and she felt something in her flip-flop with a girlish apprehension.

"Success is getting and achieving what you want. Happiness is wanting and being content with what you get,"

"Bernard Meltzer," Marie nodded knowingly. "I take it you're not a very happy man, Mr. Rippner," His smile was almost cocky.

"Now I wouldn't say that, Dr. Keller," She swept her eyelashes downward as his eyes roved her features. He watched her purse her lips, as if her breath was too sweet for her mouth to hold.

"Conversation should be pleasant without scurrility, witty without affectation, free without indecency, learned without conceitedness, novel without falsehood," She sipped her wine and offered him a small, flirtatious smile, "It seems you've broken all those rules Mr. Rippner,"

---

Reviews are Love.


	3. Business

Disclaimer: Mmmm, Jackson…

A/N: Marie's parents' names are the same as Indiana Jones's parents' names. That's my little tribute to them.

---

Beautiful Liar

---

Chapter 3: Business

---

"You never told me what you do," Marie began casually. _Relax; it'll make this go faster._ "I suppose you're a business man of sorts?" She smiled coyly. Jackson's eyes lit up like Christmas.

"Yes, and my business is all about you," She blinked, confusion etched into her features,

"Excuse me?" He kept his eyes on her as he finished off his wine,

"I'm a manager," Jackson sighed setting down his glass, "Right now, I'm doing something for Diaz Innovations. Ring a bell?" His charming smile was expectant, but something malicious glinted in his eyes. Marie frowned lightly and a nervous smile tugged her lips.

"Should it?" Jackson's expression remained the same but his smile seemed more like a sneer.

"You must've thought you were _so clever_, changing your name like that," She swallowed.

"I'm sorry, what?" He rolled his eyes, backing her into the wall. He comfortably placed his hands on either side of her head, his arms barring her escape.

"Oh don't be coy with me, Catherine Keller Conway. Or can I just call you Kate?" She froze, staring into his beryl eyes in horrific disbelief.

"How do you know my sister's name?"

Jackson felt his blood run cold for the first time in several years. _I didn't botch this job. I didn't fuck this up, I didn't fuck this up._ He kept still, his mind racing as he controlled his breathing, trying to keep his heartbeat regular. She was shitting him. She had to be. He was sitting in front of Catherine Conway, née Keller, married to Daniel Conway, a former associate of Diaz Innovations, a biotech company secretly developing weapons for biological warfare to sell them on the black market to the highest bidder. Daniel had figured out what Diaz Innovations was up to, but died in car accident before anything had reached the authorities. The CEO of Diaz Innovations had hired Jackson's company to take care of Catherine, just in case Daniel had told her anything. Jackson didn't particularly care when Gianna had handed him the file; it was a giant "he said, she said, we need to kill some people" ordeal. Same as always.

"How do you know my sister's name?" She repeated and he noticed that her hand was clenched around her butter knife, her knuckles white. He almost smirked. _As if she could defend herself against me with a butter knife…_ He wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin,

"Let's take this somewhere else, shall we?" He stood and held his hand out expectantly. He could see her hesitate, the fear rolling off her body in waves. Her grip didn't falter and Jackson's lip curled. He leaned forward, placing his hand over hers. Her breath quickened, "Are you going to bring that with you? A silly little thing like that?" He scoffed, "Like you could fight me off," His fingers found the pressure point on her wrist and slipped the knife away from her. Marie stood, free hand balled into a fist. He led her out of the busy dining room, both unnoticed by the other passengers. A crowd had gathered in front of the elevator and Marie tugged him inside as the doors slid open. Jackson pursed his lips as other people filed in.

She could feel the air pressing down on her, the heat rising in the metal box. Her heart beat quickened, adrenaline working its way through her veins. She had to escape, find the captain, someone, _anyone_ and tell them that there was a dangerous man on the ship trying to kill her. Rather, thinking that she was her sister and trying to kill her. _What a mess_. Marie thought bitterly, her eyes focused on the numbers that lit up as they reached the floors. _What did you get yourself into, Kate? _Jackson's lean frame brushed against her, like it had before. Just, this time, his presence was far more menacing. They stayed silent, both breathing quiet, even breaths as the older cruise goers chattered around them. A tipsy woman stumbled back, laughing and separating the predator from his prey. The door opened for their floor.

She was off, running down the hallway in a flash. Marie could hear Jackson racing after her. She imagined his long strides and knew he would be upon her in seconds. Her feet ached from running in heels. She felt him grab her arm. Marie winced when he spun her about, slamming her against the wall. A door opened and a young couple stepped out. Jackson saw them before they turned and bent his head to capture her lips. Her hands flew up to his chest, trying to push him off. He gripped her wrists and pressed her further into the wall.

The kiss was heated and demanding. Her head was spinning and Marie felt her knees grow weak as he briefly suckled her lower lip. Jackson pulled back slightly, enough so that he could look at her, their faces still close. _As if she could outrun me_.

"Don't run from me, Red," He wrapped his arm around her and gripped her upper arm, his fingers digging into her flesh. Jackson casually popped open her clutch and removed her key card as they approached her door, people blindly milling past them. She dreaded his slow, deliberate motions as he slid the key into the slot. The small, cheerful beep seemed out of place in her head. She stumbled when he shoved her into the room. The door slammed heavily behind them. She whipped around to face him.

Jackson slipped off his jacket, removing a KABAR from the jacket's inner pocket. She eyed him warily and took a step back. He seemed to be pleased with her fear. Marie gritted her teeth. They stared at each other for a few minutes and she thought they were waiting for the other to make a move first. But Jackson knew he had everything in control. A case of mistaken identity could be over looked, if the end results provided the prize,

"Sit down," His voice was pleasant, even though he was giving an order. Marie knew she couldn't do anything stupid so she complied, eyes constantly flickering between his glacier blue irises and the knife in his hands. Her body was still on the couch and Jackson moved to stand in front of her,

"What's your name?"

"Marie Keller," She answered, slightly unsure of where this was going,

"What's your _real_ name?" Jackson asked again with the patience of an adult speaking to an idiot child,

"Marie Keller," She repeated. He nodded,

"I see," He tapped the knife against his lips before asking, "Who is Catherine Conway?" Marie swallowed and told the truth,

"My twin sister. We were both adopted when we were born," Jackson sat down on the edge of the coffee table, elbows resting on his knees,

"Where is she?" The knife danced in his hands and Marie shifted to directly face him,

"I don't know," She mustered all the steel she could. He recognized her approach and sighed,

"You don't know or you don't want to tell me?" His eyes searched hers and she pursed her lips in frustration,

"I don't know!" Jackson narrowed his gaze. _Why is she making this so hard on herself?_

"That's not good enough," His sneering reply made her want to strike him across the face, hard. She clenched her fists, her compliant calm quickly burning away,

"I'm telling you, I don't know! She's been gone! She disappeared after her husband died!" He studied her face. _Oh, family_,He thought sarcastically, _If only they knew what they do for each other._

"Because she knew something?" He pressed. The circular conversation was getting annoying,

"I don't know!" In a flash, he sank the blade into couch cushions beside her Marie flinched,

"What did she tell you?" He asked slowly, his voice low and threatening,

"She didn't tell me anything," She crossed her arms protectively, trying to strengthen herself against him. But it was difficult when he held the knife. Jackson slid the steel out of the sofa and caressed her cheek with the edge,

"Then why did she disappear?" His tone was soft and patronizing,

"Because she's a paranoid schizophrenic!" Marie burst out angrily, "Okay? She's a fucking paranoid schizophrenic who disappeared! She left in the middle of the night and we haven't heard from her since. I don't know where she is, I don't know what she knows- shit, I don't even know if she's alive!" She stood abruptly, "So back the fuck off! I don't know what to tell you!" He was slower to stand. He towered over her and she felt her anger quickly dissipate and fizzle out,

"I don't believe you," He snapped out,

"Fuck you," Jackson threw her like a rag doll over the coffee table and she felt the chair dig into her back. He rolled his neck and ran a hand through his hair, arranging it out of his eyes.

"Really, Red, you must understand," He skillfully twirled the knife in his hands, his calm regained, "I don't want to do this to you, but you're making it really _hard_ to be nice," She swallowed, fingers curling into a fist,

"Yeah, sure. Don't do me any favors," Marie bit back. He shrugged,

"I must be cruel only to be kind; Thus bad begins and worse remains behind," She visibly flinched. "And I know you so _well_. I mean, who do you think told the ship staff to put poetry and Shakespeare in your room?" Any color drained from Marie's face.

"What?" He couched by her, knife in her hair, hand gripping her chin, forcing her to look at him.

"Do you know why I know that you love _Othello_ and Robert Frost? Do you, Red? It's because I've followed you for eight weeks. _Eight weeks_. And I know everything about you,"

"You thought I was my sister," He pushed her back and her head struck the edge of the coffee table.

"But I still know that you can't sleep at night," His full height seemed even more intimidating from her position on the carpet. She could feel her scalp throb and grow damp with blood, "I know that you stay up late,"

---

Reviews are love,

The Author


End file.
